The Dog's Diary: The Ladies' Lament
by Natmonkey
Summary: While Stubbs is faithfully watching over his comatose mistress, the other lady adventurers honour them with a visit.


**The Ladies' Lament**

The lady is still asleep. So is Tail. He must be very tired, looking after the lady all the time. At least I get to stay in bed with her. Tail is in his chair, a book in his lap. He doesn't snore. When is the lady going to wake up? She's been sleeping for so long. I have never slept this long. Lady? I prod her arm with my nose. Nothing. She feels warm now. That's good.

The door opens and the nice female creeps inside. She strokes my ears. "Hello, sweet boy. How is your mistress doing?" Tail makes a noise, but he doesn't wake up. He has to rest too. Giving the lady baths and stuff must be hard work. She weighs a lot.

"Still sleeping." I watch the nice female sit down on the lady's other side. She's brought her lute and a blue book. "What have you got there?" I point my nose at the book.

"What, this?" She raises the lute. "This is my lute, it makes music."

"No, I know that." Now I point my paw at the book, kind of like humans do. "_That_. What's it about?"

The nice female gasps and pets my paw. "My, you are so bright. This was a gift from your mistress." She looks at the book as if she loves it very much. "Poetry. I thought I might read a bit to her."

"I think she would like that." I snuggle up to the lady and listen to the nice female's beautiful voice. Maybe she will sing later too.

"I hope you can hear me, Astoreth." She softly strokes the lady's cheek. "Here is one of my favourites:

_I have leaned, body and soul,  
>Towards you, beloved,<br>From the moment I saw you -  
>A stranger like a cloud of heaven.<em>

_Unable to bear the thought_  
><em>That tonight will quickly pass,<em>  
><em>Oh, how I pray that it might be<em>  
><em>Long as a hundred autumn nights!<em>

Isn't that beautiful?" The nice female sighs and clutches the book close. I don't know… Shouldn't poetry rhyme? That's what I always heard. My old master also liked poetry. What was the one he always told his friends? Oh, yes: _Roses are red, violets are blue, onions stink and so do you._ Heh. That's a funny one. I should tell the giant or angry female, so they can pass it on to the lady. She'd love it. "Oh, here is another lovely one:

_Though you say, 'Do not grieve!'  
>I know not, alas,<br>When we shall meet again;  
>How can I but pine after you?<em>

How fitting for us now." She sighs and holds the lady's hand. "I wish I knew what was going on in your head at this moment."

"Me too!" The door opens again and there is the angry female. "Hi, angry female."

She sniffs. "I wish you would stop calling me that." Angry female looks at the nice female. "What are you doing?"

The nice female smiles, but her eyes look sad. "I was reading our friend some poetry."

"How boring." The angry female rolls her eyes. I scoot over, so angry female can sit with me. "You have brought your instrument; why not regale us with a song?" She pats the lady's arm. "Surely Astoreth would enjoy that so much better."

"Of course." The nice female puts away her book; music comes from the strings of her lute. Such a beautiful sound. She clears her throat: "_Gwaren is bonny, and there lives my love. My heart lies on him and will not remove…_" Sniffle. It's so sad. I thought it was going to be a happy song. Human lives can be so difficult. I keep saying this: it's good to be a dog. Sniffle. Jeannie's father is mean. I hate him. Poor Jeannie. Poor Annachie. He doesn't have lands, so she has to marry some rich guy. Terrible. Love can kill. I didn't know that. "_And he's kissed her cold lips till his heart has turned to stone, and he's died in the chamber that his love she lies in…_" The nice female ends with a single sad note.

Angry female sniffles. "That… That was so, so dismal." She looks at the lady, but there is no reaction there. I'm sure the lady would cry too if she could hear all this.

"Don't mind Morrigan, Leliana," says White Hair suddenly. When did she come in? "That was beautiful."

"Thank you, Wynne." The nice female smiles. "Perhaps in hindsight I should have played a more cheerful song…"

The angry female wipes at her eyes. "Nonsense! Everybody loves a bit of tragedy every now and then." She sighs and looks at the lady. "Although tragedy has struck too close to home for us this time, I believe." Her yellow eyes shift towards White Hair. "What do you think, old cat? Is she going to make it?"

The old human shrugs and sits besides the nice female. "Her vital signs are in good order, so she is out of danger. Her mind is probably keeping her body under to help her recover more quickly." White Hair rolls her eyes. "Good thing too. Once that girl gets up and running again, it is anybody's guess what will happen to her."

"You still believe she ran headlong into danger?" Angry female shakes her head. "That is unfair. You know she has been much more level-headed lately."

White Hair laughs. "Her impulsiveness is part of her charm; I doubt she will ever fully lose it."

"Maybe we can simply try to be grateful the Grey Warden is still alive, yes?" The statue walks in. I'm not in top shape today. Everything gets past me. "It is still sleeping?" It touches the lady's face, very carefully. Even the statue can be nice. "Surely it is fully rested by now." Poke, poke. "No? Well, it was worth a try." I think… the statue likes the lady. It shrugs and leaves.

"Come, girls, maybe can distract ourselves from our sorrows with a nice cup of tea," says White Hair. The other females go away too. I'm glad they pet me first. I like pettings.

Just when they've closed the door behind them, Tail wakes up. He yawns: "Hey, Stubbs. Have I missed anything?"

I prod the lady's arm with my nose again. Nothing. "Nope." Sigh.

* * *

><p>Annachie Gordon<em> is the song Leliana sings; changed BuchanHarking to Gwaren. I think I like the one sung by Mary Black best. Poems from _1000 Poems from the Man'yōshū_. Brilliant book, would recommend it to anyone who likes poetry, especially Japanese poetry. _


End file.
